


Connoisseur of Art?

by Undefined20Something



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Awkward Conversations, First Meetings, M/M, Meet-Cute, Strangers, art gallery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:54:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23707213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Undefined20Something/pseuds/Undefined20Something
Summary: Cas couldn’t contain the bark of laughter that escaped out from himself at the man’s very poignant commentOr, Cas and Dean meet unexpectedly in an art gallery over some questionable art
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 61





	Connoisseur of Art?

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently this isolation/quarantine is sparking some kind of writing muse in me...
> 
> Also, again, unbeta'd as I am definitely one of those "impatient to post" types, so apologies on any mistakes.

“So, how did you two meet?” Dean had just sat a beer down in front of him as the redhead asked her question. His and Deans relationship was already a few months in when they were finally able to get everyone’s schedules to match up so they could meet. So here they were at a bar with Charlie, Benny, Jo, Garth, his brother Sam and his wife Eileen.

“You don’t want to hear that.” Dean answered her quickly, deflecting. Cas was getting better at reading him after months of seeing each other almost daily. It was like, once they met, they didn’t want to not see the other. It was a whirlwind, more sparks and more feeling than Cas had had in any of his previous relationships, combined. But in this case, Cas knew Dean was a little shy and embarrassed about their first initial meeting.

“Come on brother, you know we want to know even more now.” Benny had a rich Cajun accent, and Cas would never admit it to Dean, but it was a bit of a turn on. He always did have a thing for accents.

Cas just chuckled, “Well…it all started because of Deans mom and dad really…”

________

It wasn’t every day that Cas came to this museum at lunch. It wasn’t even every week. But whenever he had the spare time at the end of his lunch, Cas would go into the free little museum just down the block from his office building. To be fair, it was more an art gallery than a museum, but they did have a large section in the back of the building dedicated to the local history and artifacts found nearby.

But it was the front section of this little “museum” that kept Cas coming back. Here you could find art for sale from some of the local talented artists. Of course, there were always several pieces that made Cas question how subjective art actually was. Sometimes he had those really disrespectful thoughts of _‘I could do that; it’s just splashed paint’._ He tried, once, and found it to be much harder than he originally thought. And since then, Cas would come in frequently to see the new art on display with new respect for the talent.

He wouldn’t call himself a connoisseur of art. He couldn’t tell the difference between certain classical artists – no matter how famous they might have been. He knew he enjoyed the art he recognized by Van Gogh and da Vinci - but honestly Cas liked to see the abstract art presented here by local artists. Sometimes the museum/art gallery would have a couple weeks of nothing but pottery on display. Some weeks it would be statues, some weeks small, tiny paintings or drawings as big as your hand, and then some weeks paintings as large as a wall that you could spend hours looking at. One really fun couple of weeks it was all art by a local welder who did sculptures and hanging lamps with scrap metal.

When Cas entered the museum today it was the large paintings once again. These weren’t as big as the walls, but they were definitely the size of a full-grown man. Last time he was here, there was nothing but sculptures. Some made no sense to him, others were quite the work of art. But todays art – he could say with certainty that he recognized. This same artist had displayed their art work several times over the last year. And there was something about it that drew Cas in. It was abstract, yes. No formal lines or obvious defining subject matter. More than splashes of paint but less than ‘ _oh that’s definitely a flower’_ or what have you from other artists work. Not that there was anything wrong with other artists work – but this artist, this artist spoke to Cas on a weird level.

“Good afternoon sir, welcome in.” He heard the friendly voice at the front desk, one he had come to recognize. He didn’t really stop to socialize with the people that worked at the museum, but he had come in so much over the last year since he moved here that they were all quite familiar faces by now. He supposed he was too. And though the museum was free to visit, after his third trip back, he started dropping money into the donation bucket at the front of the building. He didn’t feel right spending so much of his time here, enjoying the beautiful art work for free, and not purchasing it, to not drop a few extra bucks when he was there and could spare it. He waved a quick hi to the woman at the front desk as he passed into the room with all new paintings.

Cas took his time here today. He had decided to stop in after getting off work early. It was a Friday, he had no other plans than cooking himself dinner and settling down with a new documentary to watch, but he was glad he decided to stop in. A good 10 to 20 minutes or better was spent looking at each painting on the wall. He lamented to himself once again how he wished he could afford to purchase one of these artworks. It would be displayed in pride of place in his living room. But alas, he wasn’t to the point of being able to afford an extravagant purchase like this. It was a goal – someday.

Moving on to the last painting in the room to view, he came to stand next to man. A very attractive man if Cas was being honest with himself. He didn’t fit the stereotypical art lover, to Cas he looked like he would be more comfortable in an auto shop than an art gallery. Said stranger stood slightly bowlegged in rough worn jeans and a flannel shirt over a black t-shirt, but what really stood out to Cas, even in the low light of the room, was the smattering of freckles across his face.

A face, Cas suddenly realized, that was looking at the piece of artwork in front of him with no little amount of discernable distaste. For a moment he hadn’t even noticed the painting, the attractive stranger held all of the appeal, so he turned his attention towards the apparently offending artwork. It was much like other pieces by this artist. Muted colors in browns, tans, greens and yellows. It was several moments of putting the fragments together in the giant picture to realize it was an abstract man. This was the first time that the artist had rendered something that was living. At least as far as Cas noticed. Most of the paintings until that moment had been scenery as much as he could tell.

“That’s definitely a dick.” The man beside him whispered and Cas couldn’t contain the bark of laughter that escaped out from himself at the man’s very poignant comment. Unfortunately, it was so quiet in the gallery that his laughter was loud and seemed to echo throughout. It was only then that the guy seemed to realize he wasn’t alone while looking at the painting.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been eavesdropping. To be fair though, you weren’t exactly having a conversation when I walked up.”

“Nah man…I should apologize. I…shouldn’t have said that.” His face turned a becoming shade of pink as he blushed at his faux pas.

“But you’re right.” Cas motioned towards the painting at what was obviously, clearly, a penis. They both looked at it and burst into laughter.

“Oh god. This is the worst painting I’ve ever seen.” The attractive stranger just became a little less attractive in his eyes. Cas had liked all of this artists work, even including this one. It was different yet still within their style. It was nice to see this artist branching out and growing with their art.

“That’s harsh don’t you think?” He tried to keep the agitation out of his voice, especially when this was just some stranger. He didn’t particularly want to start a fight in a museum/art gallery.

The stranger put up his hands in a placating manner. “No…sorry…you don’t understand.”

“Enlighten me then. I happen to like this artists’ works so far.” He crossed his arms and was fully ready to be a public defender of this piece.

“Dude. My mom is the artist and that man?” He hooked his thumb over his shoulder, pointing to the painting behind him without looking at it again. “That’s probably my dad.”

“Oh.” Releasing the tension in his shoulders, he relaxed as he realized the implications. “Ok, I understand that sentiment then. I can forgive you that. I think I would hate seeing my father on display like that too.”

“Yeah…” The stranger looked relieved, “My mom told me that a few of her new works were going up this week here. I come see them every time. I thought she was only doing like trees and shit. Not my dad in all his glory!” He laughed awkwardly.

“My name is Castiel,” He stuck his hand out for a handshake, “I figured I should introduce myself if we’re going to talk about your nude dad and moms sudden branching out of art subjects.”

Laughing, the guy shook his hand back. “Dean, nice to meet you Cas…ya know, I am pretty sure I have seen you in here before.”

“Oh yeah, actually I quite enjoy coming in on my lunch breaks or after work. It’s something to do and it’s nice to see some art from local people. I moved here a year ago so I haven’t had the chance to explore much but I stumbled on this place and I really like it. Not to basically fanboy, but I adore your moms work specifically.”

The guy in front of him lit up. “So how would you like to meet the artist?”

“What?”

“Yeah, come meet my mom, Mary. I’ll be heading to her place tonight for dinner. Join us.”

“No Dean…I can’t possibly impose on family dinner. We just met, that would be so rude of me.”

Dean was shaking his head no, pulling out his phone and texting before he was even done saying no. “Dude, no, seriously. My mom would love it. She so rarely gets to meet the people who see her work or interact with them. She would definitely not think it was an imposition.”

“But…” Dean held up his phone in front of Cas where he could clearly read a _‘Yes! Bring him!’_ text, “Ok, I concede.”

________

“Wait Dean…” Benny interrupted the story. “Are you telling me that within a span of a few minutes you went from talking about your naked dad to a stranger to then inviting him to meet your family?”

“Yup.”

“You move fast.” Everyone around them laughed except Dean and Cas.

“What...?” Charlie started to ask.

“So, what are you all doing next Saturday?” Dean interjected. Several grumblings of _‘nothing’_ and _‘not busy’_ echoed around the table. “Good, because we’re moving in together and could use your help.” So what if they were moving a little fast? To them it almost didn’t feel fast enough. When you know, you just know. 


End file.
